After I resort to blow-drying my hair, I grow thirsty, so I decide to head downstairs. I tidy up a little first, turning off my music before I leave, and then I make my way down the staircase.
For some reason, the house is silent and I wonder if everyone’s gone out, but when I get into the hall, something catches my eye from the kitchen. It’s Ella and Tyler. But they’re not standing around making food or having a conversation. Far from it. I edge toward the archway, silently watching from afar, and I peer around the corner.
Tyler’s head is buried in Ella’s shoulder. She has her arms wrapped around him while she rests her chin on his shoulder, her eyes shut. But he’s just breathing heavily against her, his shoulders sunk low and his arms hanging by his side. There are some sighs or some sniffs, almost a mixture of both, and I can’t tell if one or both of them are crying. Ella’s just holding him. Holding him as though her life depends on it.
“I get it,” she murmurs, but her voice is cracked. “You’re allowed to feel like this, Tyler. You have every right to. It can all become too much sometimes.”
It’s obvious something’s wrong. I just don’t know what. I’m waiting for Tyler to say something in reply, but he never does. The only thing I hear is the sound of the front door opening at the other end of the hall and my dad’s voice calling, “Guess whose work let out early?”
Immediately, Tyler draws away from Ella, quickly lifting his head and walking to the other side of the kitchen. He exhales and runs both hands through his hair. I notice how swollen his eyes look just before he wrenches open the patio door and steps outside.
Ella presses a hand to her chest as she stares after his departing figure, her lips trembling. But she manages to get over it before Dad can see, and she jumps into action and starts operating the coffee machine.
“Enjoy the parade?” Dad asks me, and I straighten up. I clear my throat and just nod as he passes me while loosening his tie. He grins and makes his way into the kitchen, where he’s greeted by his wife’s beaming smile.
I wonder if he knows it’s fake.
*
“We’re all going in the same car,” Dad announces two hours later once we’re all ready to leave for Culver City. “There’s only three seats in the back, so you’re all just going to have to squeeze in. Chase, you’ll have to duck down onto the floor if we pass the cops.”
Tyler folds his arms across his chest and rolls his eyes as he leans against the wall of the hall. He’s back to normal again. A smirk on his lips, his eyes challenging. I’m still curious as to what was wrong earlier, and the questions are eating away at me, but I know I can’t ask. It’s just not my place.
“Why can’t I just take my own car?” he asks.
“Because you’re grounded and you’re not getting your car, that’s why,” Dad shoots back without so much as a glance toward him. “You and Eden, keep your phones on so we can find you at the end of the night. Jamie, Chase, you’ll stay with us.”
“Is that the end of Dave’s stupid-ass safety explanations?” Tyler mutters, a smug grin on his face, his eyes narrowed. The expression is almost permanent by now.
Dad doesn’t look impressed. “Just get in the car.”
Tyler laughs as we all make our way out to the Range Rover and clamber inside with four of us squashed uncomfortably into the backseat. We’re not even in a suitable position to wear seat belts, so I sit there with Chase on my left and Tyler on my right, and we’re all so packed in that my body is pressed against Tyler’s. I look at my feet while he stares out the window, and the hair on my arms begins to stand up as the heat from his skin warms mine. I bite my lip to keep myself quiet, but when I notice his shoes halfway through the journey, I simply have to speak. He’s wearing white Converse, just like I am.
“I didn’t know you wore Converse,” I muse, quiet enough beneath Dad and Ella’s conversation that they can’t hear me.
He glances sideways down at me as his soft eyes meet my gaze. “Yeah.”
And that’s all we say during the entire journey to Culver City. The traffic is unbelievable, so we end up being stuck in the car for forty minutes until we finally come to a stop outside the local high school. It turns out the firework display is here, and Ella was right about there being a lot of people going. We have to pay to get into the school parking lot, and then we have to donate even more to get into the event itself. At least we don’t get pulled over on the way here for overloading the car.
“If any of your friends are here, you can go find them,” Ella tells Tyler and me as we all make our way inside the school, following the signs to the football field. “We’ll call you at the end if we can’t find you again, okay?”
“And behave yourself,” Dad adds, but he’s only looking at Tyler. Because Tyler is the only one he needs to worry about, because Tyler is unpredictable, because Tyler is reckless.